


Strong/Bitter

by coffeerepublic



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Sports, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Reader-Insert, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2014-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-09 01:19:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1963563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeerepublic/pseuds/coffeerepublic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Getting locked inside the school gym is not supposed to happen.<br/>Getting locked inside the school gym with him of all people might just be the end of you.</p><p>[Joey x Reader]<br/>[high school soccer!AU]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strong/Bitter

**Author's Note:**

> Uhm. Yeah. GERMANY WON THE WORLD CUP. SCHLAAAAAAND. ♥
> 
> I've been obsessing about soccer lately, and this is the result. I'd always wanted to write something like this, but the inspiration did not come until the World Cup obsession came.
> 
> PS: It's quite long by my standards. How did this happen?

Standing in the changing room, you seriously could not wait for today’s practice game. Like every Thursday, it was going to be the girls’ team against the boys’. Soccer was not as popular at Domino High as you would have liked – hence there only being these two teams. You had only transferred here at the start of senior year, and at your former school, the sport had been the trend du jour.

Personally, you had been passionate about it ever since you had been a child. As a result, you had been slightly disappointed to find that there was no hype whatsoever about it here. But at least there was a girls’ team at all, which was probably all one could ask for.

Today had been a long one, and you had been looking forward to being able to let off some steam during soccer practice all day. Nothing served that purpose as well as your favorite sport.

You pulled up your hair into a high ponytail and put on your captain’s armband. Now you were ready.

On your way out onto the field, you nodded and smiled at all of the girls you passed. Your team was not the best when it came to achievements, you had to admit. But the team spirit was strong, and playing together was a lot of fun. You had learned to be a little less success-oriented ever since you had been here, but had not been able to shake your determination completely. To be ambitious was part of who you were, and there was nothing to be done about that.

You took your place at the center line and waited for everyone to get into position. Especially the boys’ team was standing around the field in small groups, joking around, delaying the beginning of the game. It was always like this. You often felt that the boys did not take the girls’ team seriously. It did not help that so far, you had failed to beat them time and time again.

Finally, the referee – the boys’ trainer – blew his whistle, signifying for everybody to get ready. Like his team, he did not seem all that interested in these games, really.

The boys’ captain, a tall, muscular boy, came to stand across from you. Joey Wheeler. Defender and your opponent on the field.

“Everyone ready?” the coach asked. Without waiting for a response, he continued. “Then let’s flip a coin to see which of you starts in possession of the ball.”

A laugh from your blond nemesis. “Just let her have it. Can’t do any harm for them to start with a little advantage.”

It was just what you needed today. Being openly mocked by some irrelevant asshole. Their entire team was laughing, and you were positively seething.

You tried to protest, but your voice was drowned out as the referee blew the whistle, signaling the beginning of the game. Swallowing your anger, you got into it right away, taking the ball past Joey and running as fast as you could. Looking to the right, you saw one of your teammates sprinting forward as well, so you passed to her. You kept running, always keeping an eye on the ball.

And then, the other team had taken the ball and you had to recalibrate your strategy.

You ran back as far as you could without abandoning your position as the rest of your team ran to strengthen the defense line. The boys tried their best to confuse them and get a chance to score, but eventually changed their minds and decided to pass backwards in an attempt to loosen up the girls’ formation.

As one of the midfielders went to pass to Joey, who had kept further back in his position as defender, your plan went into action. You ran as fast as you could and before he could see you coming, you had already taken the ball before it had even reached his feet.

And off you went. Most of the boys had strayed far from their own goal because they had underestimated your ability to turn the game around. As they always did. It was so typical. You were probably a better player than most, if not all of them, and they still were not able to muster up the least bit of respect for you or your team.

You converted the entirety of this rage into speed. Closer and closer the goal came. Slowly, even the boys’ goalkeeper seemed to properly wake up and realize he might have to actually do his job soon.

But Joey was quite a bit taller than you were, and his long legs made it possible for him to catch up with you eventually. However, you were not going to let him take this from you. This was your chance to gain some respect and turn things around for once.

So you fought as hard as it was possible without being deemed a foul. You used the most artistic leg work you knew, leading the ball around him in a full circle.

It didn’t work out, and he was by your side again, trying to push you away with his shoulder and upper arm. Your reaction was to hook your own shoulder in his armpit, mustering up all of your strength to push him off you. And it worked.

You had the ball to yourself again and you ran towards the goal. Nothing but you, the ball and the goal seemed to exist now. You did not see or hear any of the other players. This was your moment.

And then it was not. There was a leg in front of your own suddenly, and you were not able to react fast enough. Your right foot got caught behind Joey Wheeler’s own, and you fell. Hard.

As soon as had you realized that you were lying on the floor and got the breath that had been knocked out of you back, you jumped up. Your right leg gave out under you immediately, pain shooting through your knee.

You wanted to scream. Not from the pain, but from the unfairness of it all. The boys’ mockery from before, your own failure from just now, the anger at Joey for what had clearly been a foul, the fact that you were most definitely not going to be able to continue the game with an injury like this. It all combined to form a ball of negativity inside you that made you want to rip your own hair out.

Joey’s hand appeared in front of you. He was offering to help you up, you realized. It only served to make you even angrier.

“Fuck you,” you spat and slapped his hand away. He flinched and took a step back, watching as you got up slowly, testing whether your leg would carry you. It would.

Without looking anybody in the eye, not even your own teammates, you limped off the field and towards the changing rooms.

After a few seconds of stunned silence, the coach ordered everyone to continue playing, and things returned to normal.

As soon as you were inside and the noise from the others was barely audible, you took a few deep breaths. The rage was still boiling inside you, making all of your organs and your skin feel entirely wrong.

You sat down on one of the benches in the changing room and tried to stretch your right leg. It worked, but you were not able to keep yourself from making a small, wincing sound. You had felt this kind of pain before. You had probably damaged a few muscle fibers when you had twisted your leg during the fall. Painful, but nothing an ointment, rest and time would not be able to heal.

After a few minutes, both your adrenaline rush and the intensity of your anger had passed. You hated how worked up you often got about things. You had such a short temper.

Eventually, you got into the shower, letting the water wash off all of the negativity along with the grass stains on your limbs. You stood in there for a long time, all alone. Soon you had turned the water so hot you could barely stand it and your skin was reddening. Then, you set it as cold as it would go for a few seconds. But you weren’t able to stand that at all, so you got out instead.

Once you were dressed, the rest of your team was starting to return from the field. A few of them asked you whether you were fine, alluding to both your physical and your mental health. You reassured them you were okay while you finished packing your stuff up.

After leaving the girls’ changing room, you did not turn to leave the gym. Instead, you went down the hall, soon reaching the boys’ changing room. You dropped your bag and leaned against the wall across from the door, waiting.

Soon, you ended up sitting down, noticing that your knee was not too happy with you standing up for extended periods of time.

Bit by bit, the room emptied, the guys walking past you and sending you bewildered looks that you returned by glaring at them.

“Are you looking for anyone in particular?” a boy named Tristan asked when he saw you sitting on the ground.

“Joey Wheeler,” you answered. You used his full name whenever you spoke of him. Only using his first name would have felt too familiar for your liking. You felt that he did not deserve the familiarity, especially not after what he had done to you today.

“He should be out soon.”

Very soon, as was shown when the door opened again and the blonde you had been waiting for came out. He seemed a little surprised to see you talking to Tristan. To see you talking to someone from their team at all, probably. Your hostility concerning them was hard to overlook.

“You,” you stated as calmly as you could, which turned out to be calmer than you had been expecting. “I need to talk to you.”

“Uhm. Okay?” he responded. “Is it gonna take long?”

You stood up.

“It’ll take as long as it takes. Are you coming?”

Joey turned to look at Tristan. “You might wanna go home already, mate. I got no idea what this is gonna be.”

Tristan nodded, leaving the scene. You took a few steps down the hall into the opposite direction, certain that Joey was going to follow you. And he did.

Your limp was not quite as pronounced anymore, he noticed.

Soon, you stopped in front of the door leading to the storage room. You pushed down the handle and sure enough, it was open. When you pressed the light switch, the crowded room lit up, although barely. It smelled like old equipment and sweat in here, but you ignored that as you sat down on a cart with exercise mats.

Joey looked as confused as ever as he sat down on another one across from you.

“So?” he asked.

“So,” you started, trying your best to remain calm, but failing almost immediately. “What is your fucking problem?” Your voice was almost too quiet to fit in with your vulgar choice of words, but the expression on your face most definitely made up for that.

“What do you even mean?” His voice was loud in comparison, but sounded of a lack of understanding rather than venom, like yours had.

“Why do you think you can act like this? Not just disrespecting our entire team, but making fun of me in front of everyone! And as if that’s not enough, you commit the most uncalled for foul I can remember ever seeing, because that’s just so funny, isn’t it?!” At this point you were ready to jump up to express your rage, but did not. It was probably better for your knee right now. “You do this all the time, as if… as if you can’t stand your ground as a captain any other way! Why?! Do you need it for your ego, or…” You had just gained momentum when he cut you off.

“I don’t even know what the hell you’re talking about!” He looked personally insulted rather than angry, which you had intended to some degree. “I don’t know why you feel like that, but that’s just a load of bullshit! And I didn’t foul you, I barely even touched you!”

You just regarded him with a blank look. His lack of comprehension had taken the wind out of your sails. You had expected him to yell back, fight you, maybe insult you for how sensitive you were. Instead, it seemed that he truthfully had not realized what he was doing. And that simply left you – you, of all people – speechless.

The lack of a reply on your part seemed to cause him to backpedal a little. “Okay, that was a lie. I did foul you today. But I didn’t do it on purpose. I just got so into the game I went a little overboard. And I’m sorry, okay?”

The look in his eyes was genuine, so you felt inclined to look down at your own lap. “You’re just saying that because I yelled at you.” Your voice sounded hollow even to yourself. The anger you were trying very hard to hold onto was slowly slipping from your fingers.

Silence fell over the both of you for a moment. Then, Joey reached out to softly touch your swollen knee. You would not have expected someone like him to actually be able to do anything softly at all.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, a lot more quietly now.

You shrugged, still looking down. “It’ll be better tomorrow.”

“I really didn’t mean to hurt you,” he reaffirmed.

“Okay,” you whispered, closing your eyes. You now felt embarrassed for your anger, and for having reacted so emotionally. You had wanted to make him feel bad, and now he was making it impossible for you to do so by not being the asshole you had always taken him for. Somewhere inside you, you could feel your pride throbbing in pain.

He realized you were not going to accept his apology, so he did not say anything else.

After a few minutes that felt like an eternity, it had become obvious that you did not have anything to say to him anymore. He stood up.

“I think Imma go home now,” he stated, walking towards the door. “You should, too, it’s getting late. I really hope your knee gets better soon.” A moment later, the door was open and he was gone.

It always got pretty late with these practice games. Even during the summer, it was usually getting dark by the time you got out. You had just decided to honor Joey’s suggestion and head home when you heard his voice from the hall.

“What?! No! That can’t be true!” There was a noise you were not able to categorize. “Stupid door!” This was followed by a loud, exasperated yell you could not decipher.

You got up and hopped towards the door, wanting to check up on him and see what was wrong. You found him down the hall, sitting on the floor with his back against the exit door.

“We’re locked in,” he said, causing quite the reaction in you.

“What?! No! No, no, no, no, no! You can’t be serious!” You tried to pull open the door yourself, but it would not budge. After slamming your fist against the thick glass a few times, your agitation turned to resignation. Joey was right. You were locked in.

You let your forehead fall against the cold glass. “What do we do now?” you mumbled, your breath fogging up the pane.

“Do you have a phone?”

You reached into your pocket, not too hopeful. Your negative prognosis was confirmed. The battery was dead.

“Battery’s dead,” you said as emotionlessly as you could manage. There was nothing you wanted less than to be locked in here with him, except maybe for him to know how uncomfortable this made you feel. Not because of him, but mostly because the thought of being locked in generally scared you a little bit.

“Shit.” His head dropped. “I don’t have one either.”

“Shit,” you agreed.

Eventually, you sat down next to him. On one hand, you still felt embarrassed because of the conversation the both of you had just had with each other. On the other hand, walking away and then having to be all alone somewhere in here seemed like even less of a possibility.

You really did not want to be the first one to say anything to him at this point. So you kept quiet. But eventually, you simply could not keep yourself from asking out loud anymore.

“Do you think anyone’s gonna find us?”

“Not before tomorrow morning, I think.” It was the answer you had been expecting, but of course it did not make you feel better. It was dark out by now. You swallowed.

“Are you okay?” Why did he have to sound like he was actually concerned? Every time he spoke, it showed you more and more how unrightfully you had been projecting your anger onto him.

“Sure.” But you were not okay, and you knew your voice was unconvincing.

“Hey, if we’re gonna have to spend the night here, we might as well get comfortable and try to get some sleep, don’t you think?” You were grateful he did not further pursue how you were feeling.

“And how?”

“We could get some of the mats and sleep on them. But not inside the storage room. It’s smelly in there.”

You could not help but chuckle. When you caught yourself doing so, you wanted to bite your own tongue off.

He looked at you with genuine surprise in his eyes. “You can laugh?” he asked, jokingly.

You responded with a glare, nipping his attempt at a light-hearted conversation in the bud. “No. No, I seriously cannot.”

You stood up slowly and walked down the hall. God, you were a gross person. He was trying to be nice and you did not let him. You felt like punching yourself in the face. It would have been nice to actually get along with him. But you still could not admit to yourself how wrong you had been about him. You had blamed your own personal failures on his perceived hostility. And now you did not have anyone but yourself to blame them on anymore.

Once you were inside the storage room, you pulled two exercise mats off the cart you had been sitting on before and tried to pull them after you. It proved difficult with your injured knee.

“Let me help you with that.” You jumped a little at the sudden voice behind you, although you should have known he was going to follow you. After all, getting the mats had been his very own idea.

He did not comment on your disproportionate reaction. Instead, he just looked at you with a raised eyebrow before taking the mats from your hands and throwing both of them over his shoulder. He then took another two from the cart and left the room. You almost felt a little offended by his physical strength.

You followed him as he went into one of the changing rooms and dropped the mats in the middle of it. Without saying a word, you joined him in properly putting one mat onto the next, creating two makeshift beds a few feet apart.

Once you were done, you lay down on one of them. You took the jacket you had thankfully brought from your bag and used it as a sort of blanket. The bag itself became your pillow. While the jacket only covered part of your body, it was better than nothing. You turned onto your side so you were looking at the wall, away from Joey. Closing your eyes, you willed yourself to fall asleep quickly.

“Good night,” he said a few moments later, having turned off the light. Perhaps he did not really expect an answer, because he did not complain when he received none.

Time passed slowly. Your anger had tired you out, but you simply were not able to find sleep. You turned onto your back and stared at the ceiling. God, this was one shitty situation.

You thought Joey had long since fallen asleep when he suddenly spoke to you again.

“Are you awake?” He was whispering so as not to wake you up in case you were not.

You made a little noise in the back of your throat in response.

“So, before, you said that you didn’t wanna be disrespected anymore. Do you seriously feel that way?”

He was hopeless. You decided not to dignify his stupid question with an answer. Instead, you turned away from him again.

“Because I respect you a lot, actually.” Good joke. “You’re a great soccer player. Better than any of us. And everyone knows that because it’s super obvious.”

And it became clear to you that he was not kidding.

Hearing him say those things made your insides feel weird. You had been waiting for someone to acknowledge you for such a long time. And now it came from him of all people. It felt like all of your organs were in the wrong place all of a sudden.

“All of the guys know that. They wish they could play like you. That’s the thing. You’re intimidating because you’re a girl and better than any of us.”

He just kept talking despite your complete lack of reaction.

“And I didn’t wanna mock you when I said you needed an advantage today. That was just banter. I thought you would be able to take that. I didn’t wanna actually make you feel bad. You just seem like such a strong girl all the time, that’s all.”

You found your voice again. “I am strong.” Your back was still turned to him.

It took you a moment of hesitation before you were able to continue, because you really had to jump over your own shadow for what you were going to say next.

“And I’m bitter. And I’m sorry I’m so bitter.” You let yourself drop onto your back, staring at the ceiling again instead of looking at Joey.

“It’s okay. I just hope I get to see the less bitter side of you a little more often once we’ve made it through this together.” The joking tone was back in his voice. This time around, you closed your eyes and smiled without feeling bad for doing so.

“By the way, yes, I can laugh. When I’m not trying very hard to stay angry at someone, I can be kind of pleasant at times.”

“I bet you can. Are you still trying to stay angry at me now?” He was testing the waters, and you did not mind at all. It felt good to talk to him like this. Maybe it had been too long since you had let your bitterness go for a day or two.

“No, I’m not. I’m just… kind of on the edge in general right now,” you admitted. Saying it out loud felt good.

“Are you claustrophobic?”

You shook your head, even though you weren’t sure whether he was looking at you at all.

“No. Just… the thought of being locked in somewhere is really uncomfortable for me. And before you ask, no, there is no dramatic childhood story to back up that fear.”

“I wasn’t gonna ask. But did you just make a joke by any chance?” You could almost hear the smile in his voice.

Well, he should be smiling. He had managed to tear down your walls and be let in, which was an honor.

“I may just have.”

“So… you know, if there’s anything I can do to distract you from how uncomfortable the situation makes you, let me know. And I’m just realizing that sounded like a horrible pick-up line. I didn’t mean it like that, I promise.”

“I actually believe you. You know, you’re not so bad, Joey.”

“Was that the first time you ever called me by my name and not some insult?”

“Probably.” You were not even trying to fight it anymore. The both of you were going to have to survive several more hours in here together, and you were beginning to feel comfortable around him. For lack of any better choice, you let it happen.

“You’re not so bad either, when you’re not angry.”

Your insides felt weirder still.

A few moments passed and silence settled over the both of you once more. You still felt extremely uncomfortable, but none of that came from Joey’s presence anymore. Now, it was only the being locked in that made your skin crawl.

But he had offered to help you after all. You debated with yourself for a while, eventually deciding to just do the one thing that you felt was going to help.

You climbed off your ‘bed’ and pushed the mats across the floor, bit by bit. Finally, you reached your goal once they were touching the ones Joey was lying on.

Your eyes had got used to the darkness by now, so you were able to see Joey’s face as he looked at you. He seemed surprised, but you could not spot any negativity in his look.

“Don’t say anything, okay?” you whispered as you lay down next to him. Lying on your side, you were turned towards him, but not touching him.

“I’m not saying anything. I like this.” He sounded so honest you could barely take it.

You smiled and closed your eyes for a moment. What you were feeling was confusing. His honesty embarrassed you, but not in an unpleasant way.

Opening your eyes, you reached down for his hand that was lying between the both of you. You did not actually take it. Instead, you just hooked your index finger with his pinky. They were roughly the same size, you noticed. As tiny an amount of body contact as it may have been, it felt comforting.

You remained like this for a few minutes.

Then, suddenly, Joey was moving again and you were carefully pulled towards him. He was lying on his back, you against his side, your head somewhere between his shoulder and his chest. His arm had found its place around you, keeping you close.

“Is this okay?”

And it was okay. Of course it was okay.

“Or does your leg hurt in this position?”

“Just shut up, Joey,” you whispered, nuzzling the side of his neck. Your traitorous voice had given away the newfound fondness you felt for him.

He pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head.

Your insides were lit on fire.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd really appreciate it if you told me what you think. :)


End file.
